Reykjavík Grapevine - 04.07.2008, Page 14

14 | REYKJAVÍK GRAPEVINE | ISSUE 09—2008
INTERVIEW By SigurÐur kJartan kriStinSSon — pHoto By gaS
On July 4, three visual artists will open an exhi-
bition in Kling&Bang Gallery on Laugarvegur 23.
This exhibition is in fact a reunion, for the exact
combo of artists opened another installation ten
years ago. I had made an appointment with one
of the three artists opening their new installation
at Kling&Bang gallery on a sunny afternoon and
was forced to abandon my fine spot on Austurvöl-
lur and head up to Hverfisgata. As soon as Erling
Klingenberg opened up for me, and asked me if I
wanted a beer with a low-keyed grin on his face,
I realised I was in for a ride. The remains of the
previous exhibitions were still in the main hall
and some enthusiastic tourists were making weird
hisses and gasps so we moved over to a more ob-
scure area of the gallery, where we could be to
ourselves. When he had lit up the first of many
cigarettes that afternoon I decided just to go for
it and asked him to depict the concept of the 10-
years-ago installation for me and describe how it
all began.
“Me and Ásmundur and Magnús had all met
while we were studying Visual Arts at the estab-
lishment, which the present name is the Visual
Arts Department of the Icelandic Academy of Arts,
but whilst we studied there it was simply called
the Icelandic School of Embroidery and Painting.
After we all finalised our studies we headed to
North America, both of them to the United States
and myself to Canada, and that’s the reason for
the date of the opening, July 4, the date itself kind
of links us all together. The Museum of Modern
Arts fitted perfectly to our longings and so it was
chosen as our premises. We had built up unortho-
dox ideals in our work, which really differentiated
us from other Icelandic artists; you could say we
are stuck in a gap between the old heroes and the
new krútt-generation. Since then a lot of time has
passed and our emphases have probably changed
a lot.”
It was apparent that he wasn’t too happy be-
ing categorised with neither of these generations
that he mentioned, so I decided to get to the bot-
tom of it all. And how do you exactly classify your
generation?
“Well, to begin with we are the last offspring of
the Cold War, but the difference between us and
other Cold War progenies lies in the fact that we
experienced the conclusion of it, which of course
moulded our ideas a lot. We were young when
there wasn’t any TV on Thursdays, but we were
also developing our style when it was broadcast-
ed 24/7. We didn’t exactly study in the old school
establishment where the old sharks learned how
to paint landscape, but we didn’t either study in
the new and fancy Icelandic Academy of Arts. We
seem to bridge a lot of gaps. We’re kind of a bridge
between the two artist stereotypical generations
known in Iceland.”
But one must wonder what has happened in these
ten years, you have probably been up to a whole
galaxy of different things. So tell us, what have you
been up to?
“Woof, that’s a big one. My associates have
spent most of their time overseas but I for one
have been involved in several adventures e.g.
the founding and operating of both this gal-
lery, Kling&Bang, and also I took part in the
Klink&Bank phenomenon.”
It’s hard to miss that your name, Klingenberg,
is drastically involved in the names of these proj-
ects, so you seem to be the top dog of ‘em all?
“Well, to me the name Kling&Bang only rep-
resents two chords but of course it is undeniable
that they bear quite a resemblance to my name. To
my defence it wasn’t actually me who suggested
this name but one of my associates, but we were
in this six or seven together. It was fantastic taking
part in all this excitement and when we opened
Kling&Bang on Laugarvegur a new dimension
kind of opened to us. Both the name and the logo
are though incidental e.g. we found an old print
between two of the bricks in the chimney, which
had our incumbent logo on it, some ancient Dan-
ish Colony representing sign. And the name was
simply chosen out of a whole bunch of smart
ideas that came along.”
And this July 4 when you reunite, what can we
expect, what has changed?
“To tell you the truth I simply do not know,
has anything changed? This is our personal pay-
off which lets us reminisce a bit and determine
in what way we have changed and what we pres-
ently represent. We decided to keep the date July
4 for these reasons but of course the artist society
wasn’t nearly as anti-America ten years ago as
it is today. Young artsy dandies would probably
never even consider launching an exhibition on
this exact date, unless in some kind of parody pur-
poses.”
And just after he released this last sentence he
stubbed out his cigarette with admirable accura-
cy, nothing was to be left lit. So I decided treat the
interview as delicately as Klingenberg had treated
his cigarette and pressed stop.
spot tHe fake: wHicH one is not like tHe otHer?
The Artists Have Come Home to Roost
A 10-year reunion of three artists at Kling&Bang Gallery
INfO
Artists at the verge of something - II
Gallery Kling&Bang Laugarvegur 23
July 4 - August 10
www.this.is/klingogbang
Well, to Begin WitH We are tHe laSt
oFFSpring oF tHe cold War, But
tHe diFFerence BetWeen uS and
otHer cold War progenieS lieS in
tHe Fact tHat We experienced tHe
concluSion oF it, WHicH oF courSe
Moulded our ideaS a lot.
CHEAP REYkjAVík!
Cheap coffee
This piece has nothing to do with sex, dating or
the incredibly hot women of Iceland. Rather,
it was inspired by the incredibly cheap lattés at
Kaffibarinn (250 ISK for a double!), even if those
bastards raised their price by 50 ISK the exact
day this article was researched. At 300 ISK, the
coffee there is still relatively cheap (especially if
you cheat the system and get a double – they do
not differentiate and you get lots more caffeine for
your krónur. This might also work for a triple, let
us know), and it’s pretty good too. So Kaffibarinn
still offers some of the cheapest coffee in 101 Rvk,
and they have free waffles on Sundays. Did you
hear that? FREE WAFFLES!
Cheap lunch
Bónus is the cheapest grocery store in Iceland
according to a lot of distinguished surveys (and
my very own investigations), and their logo is a
big, pink pig plastered. This makes Bónus the
grocery store of choice for students, poor people
and Grapevine reporters, even though their veg-
etables are often sworn to the dark side and their
selection is ghastly. They also sell rather shoddy
Bónus-brand sandwiches for the meagre price
of 139 ISK. Their shrimp sandwiches should be
avoided, unless you have a mayo-fetish, but the
tuna is often passable enough to warrant buying
during times of trouble. I would recommend the
absurdly cheap instant noodles they sell, but I am
highly sceptical of them containing any real nutri-
tion. So I won’t.
Cheap nothing
Always worth mentioning is the absurd pricing
of the so-called “clock stores” (24, 10-11 and 11-
11) and for newcomers there is a rule of thumb to
be learned: an Icelandic grocery store should be
avoided at any cost if it has a number in its name.
This is because every product there is double the
reasonable price, so even if you can afford to shop
there on account of the five jobs you work, it still
feels remarkably like unsolicited anal sex. There
are only a few instances where it is justifiable to
shop at a “clock store”, such as experiencing an
Extreme Grocery Emergency or to make fun of the
prices. And also if you want to meet Lord Sauron
in person, as rumour has it that he works as shift-
manager at their Austurstræti branch on Sundays.
Otherwise: don’t say you weren’t warned.
Found any cheap stuff you’d like to share? Or some
overpricing you’d like to complain about? Send a
note to our resident miser: haukur@grapevine.is
Celebrating
the pleasantly
cheap finds
we sometimes
stumble upon
By Haukur S. MagnúSSon
COMIC STRIP By lÓa HJálMtÝSdÓttir